Shadow
Two more months.She sank into the old leather couch. Soothing piano notes floated from her little speaker onto the stale air’s unclaimed molecules, lifting the dim house’s oppression. Turning, she brushed back the flimsy curtains to let the light in, only to notice goopy bodies of dried paint around the window. Tiny holes in the walls glared like beady black eyes. She looked down at the floor she’d installed while pregnant and the gaps at the bottom of the walls where preterm labor...
True